Hogwarts, Snogwarts
by Ispeak Inprose
Summary: Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Harry Potter kidnapped by Lucius Malfoy!
1. Another Summer

Disclaimer: These disclaimers get rather redundant, so this is the only one you will find in this story. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, the boy and the book.  
  
The Dursleys were trying a new tack this year: being nice. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of them cautiously coddling over him, but it put Harry on edge. Aunt Petunia kept smoothing his hair whenever possible, and Uncle Vernon kept making silly jokes and nudging Harry to make him laugh. Something was obviously up - the Dursleys strange new affection seemed very forced. He wanted to tell them to just quit it, that he didn't like them any better than they liked him, but, strangely enough, he couldn't bring himself to do that. They were the only family he had left, and besides, with Dudley on a vegetarian diet, it was somewhat satisfying to slowly nibble his bacon while Dudley's eyes practically popped out with hunger. Still, teasing Dudley wasn't nearly as satisfying as it used to be. Harry had far more serious things to occupy his time. Like Sirius's death. With Sirius gone, he had lost the only father figure he had ever known, and he had lost any hope of escaping the Dursleys. Harry had considered joining the Weasley's halfway through the summer, but even the thought of the Burrow couldn't raise his spirits. Harry had no desire to be around people who would pity him, or remind him of Sirius - he wanted to be as far away from the wizarding world as he could get. A little voice in the back of him mind told him he was running away, but he chose to ignore it. Thus, Harry resigned himself to a summer of Aunt Petunia's artificial fawning, and Uncle Vernon's pathetic jokes, and Dudley's drooling over his bacon. 


	2. The Unexpected Birthday

Harry's birthday began uneventfully. Hedwig arrived in the evening bearing a small package from Hermione, and Pig, with the assistance of several larger owls, bore a larger package from Ron and the Weasleys.  
  
Harry was just about to shut his bedroom window when, strangely enough, a rather large bat whizzed in. It was carrying a package not wrapped in typical brown parchment, but in chartreuse wrapping paper. Harry goggled at the bat and the package for several seconds, until the bat began a high pitch screech demanding Harry to untie the package. Harry quickly untied it and launched the bat out the window, shutting it firmly as the bat winged unsteadily into the distance.  
  
Harry returned to his presents. Desperate to dispose of the chartreuse paper, he decided to open that one first. He quickly cut the twine and ripped off the paper. Inside lay a letter, and a tarnished silver mirror decorated in runes - and roses. "Ugh!" thought Harry, "Who would send this?" He looked at the letter - it was from Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw girl - nice, but a bit batty. Looney Lovegood was her not so flattering nickname. The letter read:  
  
"Dear Harry,  
I saw the Weasley twins in Diagon Alley, and they said you're birthday was coming up, and that you had rotten relatives who probably won't get you anything, so I thought I'd send something. Someone gave this to Daddy in exchange for a favor - it was discovered in Ireland - at Blarney, Daddy said. It's very old, but it still works - it's a scrying mirror. It's supposed to show you anything you want to see - only you can't see the past, or the future, only the present. Daddy doesn't know how to work it, and neither do I, but maybe you'll be able to figure it out. Anyway, Happy Birthday.  
Love, Luna Lovegood  
P.S. I added the flowers myself - it was just too drab with all those old runes no one can read anymore."  
  
Harry sighed. Another useless token from Luna. It was probably just an old mirror, and the roses.  
  
Harry was about to open Hermione's gift when, suddenly, the hall outside his bedroom door was flooded with the barely distinguishable tune of "Happy Birthday!" sung by Aunt Petunia, in a nasally, shrill soprano, Uncle Vernon in a booming baritone, and Dudley, in an elegant falsetto which would have made his school friends howl. Harry had just enough time to stash his presents under the bed before the Dursleys burst in, Aunt Petunia bearing a large lemon cake with sixteen candles and "Happy Birthday, Harrykins!" written in pink frosting. Harry was, too say the least, taken aback, but he forced a grin and blew out the candles in one breath, wishing that the Dursleys would seek some emotional help.  
  
"Oh Harry!" cried Aunt Petunia, "How does it feel to be sixteen?"  
  
"Uhhh. cool," said Harry, who couldn't decide whether to tell them this was the weirdest experience of his life, or whether to tell them he really didn't feel any different, physically. Aunt Petunia flashed a fake smile and began distributing cake. She gave Dudley an especially small slice, which he glowered at mournfully. Vernon left the room, and promptly returned, carrying a parcel of clothing, and a small, rectangular box.  
  
"Well, my boy," said Vernon, "This year we decided to get you something real special. We want you to look real sharp when you go back to that. that school of yours." Vernon's attempt to sound casual fell a little short of convincing. He handed Harry the package with the kind of smile typical of someone who he being stretched on the rack. Harry accepted them, trying to look gracious instead of woefully confused.  
  
The first package - the small, rectangular one, held a new pair of glasses. They were square - "the height of London fashion," Aunt Petunia assured him - and green - "to bring out the color of your eyes." Harry was surprised she had even noticed the color of his eyes, but kept silent. He tried the glasses on and inspected himself in a handheld mirror which Petunia provided him with. Dudley snickered. Harry couldn't blame him, looking at his reflection. He nearly gagged at the sight of those heavy emerald frames (set on his nose like a cauldron might balance on a teaspoon), but he managed a strained, "Thank you," and ate a mouthful of cake to buy some time to think.  
  
The Dursleys seemed to find "thank you," thanks enough, and presented him with the clothing parcel. It contained further horrors - a tweed blazer, tweed slacks, a green scarf (the perfect Slytherin shade too, but how could they have known that?), and, to top it all off, a tweed hat. Aunt Petunia made him try it on. So Harry, with a brittle smile, tromped off to the bathroom laden with tweed.  
  
As he put the hat on and caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, Harry wondered if the Dursleys were deriving some sick satisfaction out of dressing him up like Sherlock Holmes. Harry felt confident that Aunt Petunia would never force such attire on Dudley. Adjusting his face muscles in an attempt at a smile, Harry returned to his bedroom - it was quiet. The Dursleys were not there. 


	3. The Flight on the Firebolt

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry called, "I've got the suit on."  
  
Suddenly Aunt Petunia appeared at the top of the stairs. Her eyes were overbright with some emotion - fear?  
  
"Harry," she said tersely, "You must leave now! Out the window. Quickly now! The cake - it's drugged!" Harry looked at the cake - he was the only one who had eaten any - even Dudley's piece was untouched. Harry's stomach went cold.  
  
"Drugged?" he asked in a whisper. Aunt Petunia nodded, her eyes beginning to spill over with tears.  
  
"Here," she said, handing him a scrap of paper and a letter. The letter was sealed, and Harry didn't both to open it, but he read the information on the scrap paper at a glance. It bore only an address, written in very hurried form of Aunt Petunia's usually tidy hand:  
  
"Hermione Granger  
14 Gloucester Gate  
London"  
  
Reading the address, Harry placed both the letter and the address into a tweed pocket, and looked at Aunt Petunia. "What is this? What's going on?"  
  
Petunia shook her head in reply, and said, "Hurry! Vernon doesn't know I'm here. I'll try to keep your things safe until you come back for them, okay?"  
  
Harry nodded, and would have pushed for further explanation, but he was beginning to feel like headed. He bent to get his broom from beneath the bed, and turned to the window to escape. He opened the window and was about to fly out, but he felt Petunia's hand on his shoulder. He turned back to her.  
  
"Good luck," she said, and, looking uncertain, kissed his cheek. He smiled at her - the first genuine smile all night, and turned back to the window. His eyes were beginning to blur, but the fresh air cleared his head a little. He set out south for London.  
  
The was a thin, low set cloud cover that night, and Harry decided to fly above it to avoid being seen. The cool mist of the fog as he passed through it refreshed him somewhat, but he could still feel the drugged cake taking its inevitable effect. "No wonder Mad Eye always probes his food," thought Harry, a little drunkenly. He noticed he couldn't make his broom obey him as well as usual, it was zigzagging through the air like crippled moth. "I just have to get as far away as I can. I can't just collapse here, for anyone to find me. I don't even have my wand."  
  
The thought struck him with sudden, sickening impact, "My wand!" He had left it back in his bedroom, stuffed beneath his pillow. He had to go back for it, no matter what. What if Uncle Vernon found it and snapped it in two? Maybe that was why they had drugged him! To find his wand and break it, or to kill Hedwig, or something else, equally heinous. He turned the Firebolt around, and, straight as an arrow, flew back to Privet Drive. He darted back beneath the cloud layer, ready to quickly dive into his room, grab his broom, and make a second escape, but something make him stop his broom abruptly. When his head stopped spinning from the sudden jerk of his stop, he looked back at his window - it was flooded with light. Straining his eyes, which were bleary and starting to see double, Harry could just make out three figures in his bedroom - there was Aunt Petunia, smiling tightly, and wringing her hands, Uncle Vernon, sweating profusely and looking nervous, and, finally, confidently surveying the room with a look of cold dismay, there was Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Harry's broom dipped suddenly, and he had to pull up swiftly to avoid crashing into the hedge outside his window. Suddenly Lucius looked straight out the window, straight in Harry's direction. Harry gulped, hoping Malfoy couldn't see him in the dark. Malfoy grinned, and Harry knew he had been discovered. He turned his broom swiftly around and tried to leap into the air and the saving clouds, but the turn made him dizzy and he could not longer keep his seat on the broomstick. As he struggled desperately to regain his balance, his broom flipped over, dumping Harry on the ground. Harry scrambled to his feet, and felt the blood rush from his head. His eyes blacked out, and Harry could feel his knees give way, and then he lost consciousness completely. 


	4. The Lair of the Death Eaters

"Harry Potter," a familiar voice rapped. It was the last voice Harry wanted to wake up to - Snape.  
  
"But school hasn't even started yet," muttered Harry, rubbing his eyes. He heard laughter, and suddenly his eyes were wide open. He found himself to be in a small, dark room, surrounded by Death Eaters.  
  
"Potions must be your favorite class," chuckled Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Not really," snapped Harry, glaring at him, and racking his brain for some sort of escape plan, "Snape stinks."  
  
"Careful, Potter," sneered Snape, and Harry's blood ran cold as Snape drew from his robes the very wand Harry had returned to rescue. You can't go running to Dumbledore now." Suddenly Snape raised his own wand, and said, "Legilimens!" Snape was rifling through his mind, making him remember every horrible memory of the previous years - Cedric, dead, Mr. Weasley, nearly dead, the battle in the Department of Mysteries - Sirius.  
  
"No!" sobbed Harry. "NO!" he was crying, and all the Death Eaters were laughing, except Snape, who was gazing at him with a fierce glitter in his eye. The laughing died down to a chuckle, and Lucius asked, "Severus, what did you do to him?"  
  
Snape shrugged, "Occulemency. Just something I learned from our precious Headmaster - Albus Dumbledore." He smirked as he said this, but gave Harry an important glance. Was Snape teasing him, or trying to tell him something? Suddenly Harry realized something: Snape was a member of the Order of the Phoenix - the secret society against Voldemort. If Voldemort were to discover Snape's relation to that organization, he would be painfully punished and killed. Snape walked a very dangerous path. If Voldemort finds out what I know about Snape, thought Harry, neither of us will escape this. It would also mean the end of the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort would learn everything. But what if he already knew everything? What if Snape were really just a spy for Voldemort against the Order? Dumbledore trusts him, thought Harry, maybe I should, too. Looking at his Potion master covered in a threatening black cloak, and brandishing his wand, Harry found this rather difficult.  
  
"Give me my wand," He demanded suddenly. He had no reason to believe that Snape would actually listen to him, but he was desperate, and this was a test of sorts. Snape looked intrigued.  
  
"And why, pray tell, would I want to do that?" Snape taunted, stepping closer to harry, and dangling the wand just out of Harry's reach. Harry leaped at it, not caring if the Death Eaters laughed themselves silly at his desperation.  
  
"Oh, Harry, you've sunk so low," jeered Snape, "Why don't you kneel and grovel, too, mmm?"  
  
Harry turned red in fury and glared defiantly at Snape, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged.  
  
"It must not be worth that much to you," he said, and began to back away.  
  
"No! Please!" Harry cried, before he could stop himself. He blushed, angry at himself, and the Death Eaters laughed.  
  
"Awww, Snape, he said please," mocked Malfoy, "Maybe we should give poor little Harry his little wand."  
  
"Give him his wand," said a voice, cold and terrible, causing all the Death Eaters to go still. Voldemort. "I want it to be a fair fight between us."  
  
Harry mouth went dry, and his hands began to tremble. Then, noticing his fear, Harry suddenly became with fury. This man had taken his parents from him, he had endangered his friends, and only a few months ago, he had killed the only father figure Harry had ever known - Sirius. Adrenaline began to pump through his system. This will be for Sirius, he thought.  
  
"Give him his wand," the Dark Lord repeated. Snape, with a look of utter displeasure, tossed Harry his wand. Harry caught it mid-air, ready for anything - except, that is, what actually happened. He felt a tugging from somewhere behind his navel, and the room with the Death Eaters disappeared. 


	5. A Welcome Reunion

Blinking, Harry found himself outside a quaint house, and across the street from a lush park. It was afternoon, and an ice cream truck was stationed nearby.  
  
"HARRY!" Hermione's familiar voice screeched, and he looked up to see her racing toward him from the house. Harry stood and brushed himself off just in time to be enveloped in a heart hug from Hermione.  
  
"Oh, we were so worried!" she cried, "The Weasleys were just coming to warn you, but they were too late! They saw Lucius and knew you were in trouble! Mrs. Weasley though the worst, and she's been sobbing all morning, and Mr. Weasley followed Lucius, and the twins snuck into your room and brought all your things - Oh Harry, you didn't even get to open my present! Anyway, I'm sure you'll like it this time. And what is that mirror? The twins nearly had a fit over it. Oh, Harry, come inside, my parents made lemonade - you're probably hungry and thirsty, aren't you? Oh, I'm so glad you're safe!" She stopped, looked at him, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Harry's stomach gave a little lurch, but before he had a chance to think about it, Hermione was grabbing his arm, and dragging him into the house.  
  
All the Weasleys (except for Percy and Mr. Weasley) were crammed into the Granger's kitchen. Mrs. Granger was making lemonade by the sink, and Mr. Granger was smiling uncertainly as Ginny chattered about at him. The twins, and Bill and Charlie (both home for the summer), were comforting a very distraught Mrs. Weasley. When Hermione led Harry in, the room fell silent, and then everyone began talking at once. Harry grinned, glad to see all his friends. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. Ginny ran up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek - but it did not produce the same effect in Harry that Hermione's had. Ron gave his sister an odd look, then turned to Harry and said, "You haven't opened your presents yet! C'mon! Wait til you see what we got you!"  
  
"Oh, Ron! Let the boy settle in first," admonished Mrs. Weasley, giving Harry a robust hug, "Harry, dear, why don't I make your some lunch - oh, dear. I quite forgot I'm not at home. Julia, would you mind me bustling around in your kitchen?"  
  
Mrs. Granger smiled and said, "Be my guest. Would you like me to show you how to use our "Muggle" cookware?"  
  
Both mothers giggled, and shooed everyone out of the kitchen to begin making lunch.  
  
"So," said Harry, sitting on the sofa, "What's been happening since summer started?"  
  
Hermione said, "Krum came to visit" - Ron made a face - "Oh, Ron! He's just a chum!" - she turned back to Harry - "He said something might be going on at Durmstrang, but he didn't know what. We all know Viktor, not the brightest, so that was the most I could get out of him." She sighed, "It would have been nice to have an informant from Durmstrang. Oh well."  
  
Harry sighed in agreement, Durmstrang, another wizard school besides Hogwarts, was famous for turning out Death Eaters.  
  
"Anything else?" he asked, "I mean, with the Order?"  
  
Ron shook his head, "We don't know, only it's not good," he said, "Mum and Dad made us come live over here in Muggleville -"  
  
"It's not Muggleville!" said Hermione, "It's still London!" Ron paid no heed, but continued, " - just in case the attacks started again. But we've been out of the loop, so we don't know what's happening, only that the Order has been very busy, and we can't find out what's going on."  
  
Harry looked at the twins, who were looking very self satisfied, and asked, "You mean even you two couldn't find anything out about the Order?"  
  
The twins exchanged smug glances.  
  
"We joined the Order," explained Fred.  
  
"Mum had a fit," added George, "But Dumbledore said we needed all he members we could get. Mum said she already had two boys in the Order, and she wasn't giving another two -"  
  
"Then Dad told Mum we could decide for ourselves, and they got in a blazing row, but, in the end, Dad and Dumbledore won out," concluded Fred.  
  
"Mum didn't speak to Dad for a week," added Ginny.  
  
"So what's happening with the Order, then?" asked Harry expectantly.  
  
"Oh, we can't tell," said Fred.  
  
"Top secret," said George.  
  
Ron scowled, "They've been like this all summer. It's almost as bad as when Dumbledore made Percy Head Boy."  
  
"Hey!" said George, "Don't you go comparing us to that gutless weasel!"  
  
"That simpering idiot!"  
  
"Bloated baffoon!"  
  
Apparently, even Fudge's acknowledgement of Voldemort's return had not effected the Weasleys' relations with Percy. The twins continued with their raillery of insults until Hermione snapped at them about "Insulting Indulgences." Harry turned to Ron, who shrugged and said, "The twins have been working on a new candy, which helps you insult people rather colorfully."  
  
"Red-faced reprobate!" yelled Fred.  
  
"Good one," said George, and wrote it down. Hermione sighed exasperatedly, but the twins seemed to have settled down again. Harry was about to ask exactly how Petunia had gotten Hermione's address, or how the Weasley's had known something was going to happen to him or what hand Snape had in all this, but Mrs. Granger came into the room to tell the children lunch was ready.  
  
Looking from Hermione to her mother, Harry could see a very clear family resemblance. Mrs. Granger was tall and thin, around forty-five, and quite pretty - in a natural sort of way. Her hair was a shade lighter than Hermione's chestnut brown, tied down in a secure braid which still could not disguise the fact that, had her hair been loose, it would have been just as thick and unruly as Hermione's own. She exuded quiet confidence and warmth, and seemed to be very easy going - Hermione must have gotten her perfectionist attitude from her father. It was apparent from looking at Mrs. Granger that Hermione had grown up in a very supportive environment.  
  
Harry looked around for Mr. Granger, and found him sitting in a chair at a writing desk in the corner. He looked a little out of place, as might any muggle in the company of fairly unfamiliar wizards. He, too, was tall, and his dark brown was beginning to gray. Hermione went up to him, and, taking his hand, tried to pull him out of his seat and to the dining room. He looked about to make an excuse, but received one of Hermione's firm glances, and surrendered with a nervous grin. Hermione smiled warmly at him, and everyone filed into the dining room. 


	6. Lunch and After

A feast of cold cuts and summer stew lay before them. Everyone must have had fairly hearty appetites, for they ate in mostly silence. Harry went back to his thoughts - he wanted to know why Petunia had helped him, how she had gotten Hermione's address - the letter! Harry suddenly remembered the letter. He felt for it, and found it secure in his pocket, and realized, blushing, that he was still wearing the tweed suit. He sighed, hoping the twins would think it was just normal muggle wear.  
  
Hermione must have seem him turn suddenly self conscious, for she leaned over and whispered, "Nice suit," in his ear.  
  
Harry's ears turned pink. Fred and George grinned at him.  
  
"Oy, Hermione," said Fred, "What sweet nothings are you whispering in our Mr. Potter's ear?"  
  
Ron looked up swiftly, one cheek stuffed with bread. Hermione glared at Fred.  
  
"Exactly that. Nothing," she snapped. Harry blushed, glad she hadn't told them what had really transpired. His tweed secret was safe. Harry looked across Hermione at Ron, and smiled, but Ron returned his look with a faltering glance, as if he were actually supiscious of him and Hermione.  
  
"Harry, what did she whisper to you?" asked George, turning to him - easier prey.  
  
"Can't tell you," said Harry, grinning, "Top secret."  
  
The twins glowered, but everyone else laughed. Ron leaned over and gave Harry a high five with an expression of "sorry I doubted you - tell me what she really said later," and Harry returned the look with a grin.  
  
When lunch was over, Hermione said, "C'mon Harry, get a change of clothes out of your trunk and come downstairs to open your presents."  
  
"What wrong with his clothes now?" asked Ron. Hermione just rolled her eyes and said, "Just show him where the bedroom is, please."  
  
Ron made a face at her, but obliged, leading Harry up three flights of narrow steps.  
  
"I swear," said Ron, "that girl gets more like McGonagall every day."  
  
Harry grinned tolerantly.  
  
"So, Ron," he began, digging his wizard's robes out of his trunk, which lay at the foot of a narrow bed by the window, "How did you're family know Lucius was going to kidnap me?"  
  
"Oh, that's easy," said Ron, "Mum had you added to our clock, and was pointing at 'Mortal Danger,' so we knew you were in trouble. We immediately went after you. Hermione's fireplace is connected to the Floo network now, so we told her, and she called over there to let you know."  
  
"Did you. let Snape know I was in trouble?" asked Harry, pulling on his wizards robes and stuffing the tweed to the bottom of the trunk. He put the letter in his new pocket to read later.  
  
Ron shrugged, "I dunno, he might have been at the Order meeting. Why?"  
  
"He was there," said Harry, "with the other Death Eaters."  
  
"Wait? Death Eaters? When were you with the Death Eaters?!"  
  
Harry stared in disbelief, "I got kidnapped by Lucius Malfoy!"  
  
"WHAT?! When you showed up, we thought you just must've gotten Hermione's call in time and were finding your way here! We thought, if the Death Eaters got you, there was no way you could get out by yourself! WOW, Harry, how did you do that?" Ron gawked at his best friend.  
  
"That's the thing! I was completely defenseless!" exclaimed Harry, "Snape had my wand, and I had nothing. They were taunting me and laughing at me, and Snape did the Occulemency thing on me, and he was looking at all my thoughts. And then Voldemort" - Ron winced at the name - "told Snape to give me my wand, so Snape tossed it to me, and suddenly I ended up here."  
  
Ron frowned, "How did that happen?"  
  
"I don't know!" said Harry, "I was hoping you guys would know. I think he turned my wand into a Portkey, but I don't know how, or why."  
  
"Maybe," said Ron, "but don't worry about it now. Let's open your presents!"  
  
Seeing Ron wasn't in a serious mood, Harry reluctantly shelved his questions and followed Ron downstairs. 


	7. Many Gifts

From the Weasleys, Harry got the usual masses of candy and cake, as well as one of Mrs. Weasley's sweaters. From Hermione came a notebook. Harry eyed it warily, afraid it might break into song or tell him to study, but Hermione demonstrated it's true purpose.  
  
"Look, Harry," she said, "You and Ron never do your homework, and then you always copy me. So watch." As he did, Hermione got her own notebook and began writing in it. The words, "See Harry, now you'll never have to copy my notes again," appeared in his own notebook, in his own handwriting. Harry grinned, "Thanks, Hermione. Did you spell in yourself?"  
  
Hermione flushed proudly and nodded. Ron ogled at her and said, "Can I have one for Christmas?" Hermione only rolled her eyes.  
  
So the friends spent the rest of the afternoon and evening together, talking, catching up, reviewing Harry's story of his capture, and Hermione's side of it ("I was soooo worried Petunia wouldn't tell you! But when she found out the man Vernon had been meeting was a wizard, she seemed shocked, and then, when I mentioned Voldemort, well. that got her going all right!"), and Ron's side of it ("Everyone just took off, and I had no idea what was happening!").  
  
Arthur Weasley arrived at around eight p.m., looking exhausted. As Molly brought him tea, he related what had happened to him.  
  
"Dumbledore had received some kind of message, and he sent us to go get Harry. I was the first to get there, since I was the closet when I got the word. Even so, by the time I got there, I saw Lucius already had him, so I had to follow, but I didn't know at all what to do, so I hid outside and waited, and thought. I couldn't reach anyone of you, and I wasn't sure what was happening inside. It was hours and hours I waited, but I was too afraid to leave him there alone to get help, so I just stayed put and listened for anything important. At one point, Snape came outside, but he didn't see me, and I couldn't jeopardize his position, so I couldn't tell him either." He took a sip of tea, and sighed. "Finally around 2 p.m., I heard some laughing, and yelling, and I knew they were doing something awful. Harry, I'm so sorry, I was right outside and there was nothing I could do. But then the yells got louder and I heard You-know-who bellowing at Snape. Something like, 'SNAPE! WHAT HAPPENED?! WHERE DID HE GO?! FIND HIM YOU IMBECILES! FIND HIM!' Suddenly a pour of Death Eaters came outside, and I had to make a dash for it or be caught, so I hoped you were all right. I've just been reporting to Dumbledore, who said Snape saved Harry by turning his wand into a Portkey. I'm going to have to thank Snape thoroughly when I see him next. Harry, I'm so glad you're all right."  
  
Harry smiled, "Thanks for following me, even if you couldn't do anything."  
  
Mr. Weasley nodded and said, "You're like one of our own."  
  
Harry looked down. It was nice of him to say that, and a few years ago, he would have liked nothing better. But that was before he knew Sirius, and, more than anything, he wanted Sirius to be his father, and to take care of him, but now, Sirius was gone. Harry felt his eyes moisten. Suddenly there were too many people around and he just wanted to be by himself. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up into Mr. Weasley's concerned face. Harry tried to smile, or at least tried to look like he wasn't crying, but neither worked.  
  
"Harry," Mr. Weasley said in a low voice meant for only Harry to hear, "I found something for you in Grimmauld Place. It's a journal. I think Sirius meant for you to have it. There's a letter in it addressed to you."  
  
Harry was crying openly now, and all Weasleys and Grangers were looking at him with worried faces. Mrs. Weasley guided him away from all those onlooking eyes, and no one said anything to them as she lead him upstairs. Arthur too excused himself and followed.  
  
"All right now, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley when they reached his room, "You just sit here for a while. You've had a long day, and a long year, so you just let it all out and cry if you need to."  
  
Harry did cry, and Mrs. Weasley held him and stroked his hair and murmured comforting words. Mr. Weasley came upstairs, but didn't stay long. He exchanged a glance with his wife, and set the journal on the desk in the corner. Then he turned and quietly exited, shutting the door softly behind him. It was odd for Harry, crying his heart out into Mrs. Weasley's motherly arms. No one had ever been his shoulder to cry on. His parents were dead, Sirius had been in hiding, and the Dursleys didn't care. Harry cried himself to sleep, and Mrs. Weasley tucked him in, removed his glasses, and shut off the light before going downstairs to rejoin her family. "Poor boy," she murmured to herself, "Never had anyone to love him his whole life." She wiped her eyes, which she hadn't realized were wet, and re-entered the living room. 


	8. Familial Ties

Harry woke up early to discover Ron still snoring in the bed next to his, and the twins also asleep, catching flies. He looked over to the nightstand for his glasses, and found them placed atop a worn black journal. In the lower right hand corner, the initials S.B. were engraved in gold. Harry put on his glasses, and, with trembling hands, reached out for the journal. It was locked at the sides by two strips of leather, and Harry made no move to open it. He simply stared. He remembered back to his first meeting of Sirius, the kindness his godfather had shown him, the many letters they had exchanged, and then that awful final moment - Sirius' look of surprise and Bellatrix's look of triumph, and the veil which Sirius disappeared behind. Harry roused himself from his thoughts, and, moving quietly so as not to disturb the Weasleys, placed the journal at the bottom of his trunk. He was not ready to face what he might find.  
  
He sat on the end of his bed for long moments, listening to Ron snore and thinking of what to do next. He had no idea what time it was, had Mrs. Weasley made breakfast? He decided it was probably too early for breakfast, and cast a glance around the room, looking for something to do. He then remembered Aunt Petunia's letter, and pulling out of his now rumpled pocket, he quietly tore it open and began to read:  
  
"Harry (it read), Perhaps you will not understand all the choices I have made in my life. It does not matter now. I know more about your past than you may think. I know of Voldemort, I have seen the Dark Mark. Vernon does not understand about magic, and I keep my mouth shut about it for his sake. When you arrived at our doorstep, taking you in seemed the only right thing to do. I learned that you had destroyed Voldemort, and because of that, I knew I couldn't toss you out into the street. But I also feared that someday, something similar might happen, and new Dark Lord might arise, and then your presence would be a danger to me and my family. And I was right. Vernon has made a deal with a man named Lucius Malfoy, and I know him well. He murdered my parents, your grandparents. Vernon does not understand. He will not listen to me. Malfoy has set his trap well. I know that you are the only power that could stand up to Voldemort then, and I know you are the only power now, and I cannot let them have you. Perhaps it will cost me greatly, and I am throwing my family into more danger than ever by telling you this, but if you do not survive, none of us will. I wronged my sister, and your father, and even you, I think, and it has taken me long years to realize this, but I cannot change the past. I will do what I can now to help. I was afraid then, and I acted badly. I am afraid now too, but I will not make the same mistake twice.  
Be Safe,  
Aunt Petunia"  
  
Harry was shocked. Aunt Petunia knew all about Voldemort and Malfoy and Dark Marks and his prophecy? His grandparents had been murdered, too? What deal had Vernon made with Malfoy? Harry sat there, his mind a whir, until Ron sat up, rubbed his eyes and asked, "What time is it, mate?"  
  
Harry only shrugged. "Hey, what's that?" Ron asked, seeing the letter. Harry numbly handed it over to Ron, who read it quickly, with a growing expression of awe and said, "You just can't catch a break, can you mate? Sorry about your grandparents."  
  
Harry shrugged, "It's okay, I never knew them."  
  
Ron looked about to say something in reply, but decided against it. Harry thought it might have been something like, "You never knew your parents, either." But Ron just grinned and said, "Breakfast?" Harry put the letter in his trunk and they both tromped downstairs to the kitchen. Hermione was up already, and just putting the kettle on for tea. She was wearing a light robe over sensible cotton pajamas, and the boys startled her when they came in.  
  
"Oh!" she yelped, "Good, it's just you two, I thought it might be the twins."  
  
Ron grinned, "At least you didn't have to live with them when you were a defenseless six year old! They terrorized me and Ginny!"  
  
"I believe it," said Hermione, searching in the cupboard for her favorite tea - peppermint. Harry sat down at the table, and Ron plunked down beside him. Hermione got the tea ready and brought it over to them, then took her seat across from Harry, but next to Ron, who was at the end of the table.  
  
"It's nice just us three again," she said, blowing on her tea to cool it.  
  
"Uh-huh" nodded Ron, never the sentimental one.  
  
"We missed you, Harry," said Hermione, smiling at him. Harry grinned back, it was good to be back. He had dreaded re-entering the wizard world, but now, he knew he had only prolonged his suffering by staying away. His feelings about Sirius, and the prophesy, and now Petunia would have to be dealt with eventually, but for now, it was nice to just sit and chat with his two best friends. Harry glanced at the clock, it was only five thirty in the morning, and he knew the rest of the household wouldn't wake for at least another hour. He wanted to talk to his friends about something normal - something not having to do with the war, or his terrible burden, but he found himself incapable of small talk. So, instead, he told Hermione about Petunia's letter.  
  
"Harry! Are you serious?" she exclaimed when he had finished, "I knew she had to be hiding something! Who else would hate her own sister that much?" she stole a glance at Ron, and added, "I know you don't hate Percy that much."  
  
Ron glowered, "Wanna bet?"  
  
"Ron! You really should go talk to him! Now that Fudge admits Dumbledore and Harry were right, and that You-know-who is back, he's bound to be reasonable. I'm sure he regrets it already, but he's probably just afraid to take the first step!"  
  
"Hermione! Don't start this again! I don't even consider him my brother anymore! He's gone! He's history! The way he treated my mum and dad! You weren't there! You don't know! I won't ever forgive him for that!"  
  
Harry could tell they had argued these points many times before.  
  
"What if he dies! You'd feel sorry you never made up with him then! And it would be too late! Stop being so stubborn!"  
  
"Stop being so pushy! You're not right about everything you know!"  
  
"I DO know! But I am right about this! If you would just think this through logically!"  
  
"I don't want to be logical! He insulted all of us, and he meant it! And I mean it when I say I hate him, and I'm never going to forgive him!"  
  
"Just give it a try!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
They were bellowing at each other now, or rather, Ron was bellowing, and Hermione had raised her voice to compete. Harry was sure the entire house was awake now.  
  
"Fine!" Hermione yelled, "Be that way!"  
  
"I will!" said Ron. They had obviously reached an impass. Just then Molly Weasley appeared in the door way, and she asked, "What are you two going on about now?"  
  
Hermione sniffed, but said nothing. Ron glowered at her, and Mrs. Weasley glowered at him, waiting for a reply. "Percy," he muttered. Mrs. Weasley paled. It was Hermione's turn to glower at Ron, but he glared back, as if to say "You started it!"  
  
Just then, Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and the twins arrived. None of them said anything, but surveyed the scene quietly. Mr. Weasley put his arms around his wife, who was now crying softly. The twins made their way over to Ron, and George muttered in his ear, "You idiot! What'd'jou have to go make mum upset for?"  
  
Hermione looked down, and Harry could tell she was feeling extremely guilty. He looked over at Ginny, who was twisting a lock of hair around her finger, apparently lost in some deep thought. When she felt Harry's eyes on her, she looked up at him, and smiled, but her eyes were still elsewhere, thinking. The room had grown quiet except for Mrs. Weasley's muffled sobs, and finally, she turned towards them all, and, wiping her eyes, said, "Well, since we're all up, I might as well make breakfast."  
  
Everyone moved to help her, but she shooed everyone out of the kitchen, and, finding a skillet, began scrambling some eggs. 


	9. The Plan

Chapter 9 - The Plan  
Harry caught Ginny on the stairs as she tried to sneak up to her bedroom unnoticed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the first floor landing.  
  
"Let go," she protested, "I was just going upstairs."  
  
"Ginny, what're you planning? I can tell you're up to something."  
  
"Nothing," she muttered, looking down. He could tell she was lying.  
  
"Ginny, just tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone. You can trust me." He smiled at her.  
  
"Promise?" she asked in a low whisper.  
  
"Promise." She relaxed.  
  
"All right. But if you're lying, I'll hex you into next week, and you know I can. I'm going to bring Percy home."  
  
Harry goggled at her, "ARE YOU CRAZY?!" he asked her in a loud whisper, "The twins would skin him alive! And Ron too!"  
  
"I know!" she said, "but they aren't thinking clearly. They're just angry because Percy is being a sot, which I won't deny. But like Dumbledore says, we're going to need all the help we can get, even snobby older brothers. Harry, he's really smart! You know that, and he's loyal, too, and I know he's not a bad person. He's just doing what he thinks is right. Besides, he's a threat to the Order. Have you ever thought about that? What would happen if he got in the way? What if something happened to him? Mum would fall to pieces. And he's very vulnerable now, he's Fudge's right hand man! But Fudge doesn't know what he's doing, so You-know-who could just snatch him up at any moment. That would weaken the Ministry as well as the Order! He's a huge liability, now. But, if we bring him back, we strengthen the Order. And since Percy is high up in the Ministry, that would probably be an asset, too. We have to be sensible. Me and Hermione discussed this. He probably wants to come back, but is too proud too, or too afraid, so we have to make the first move. And since the boys are too stubborn for their own good, it's going to be me and Hermione."  
  
Harry just stared. She had a point. Several, in fact. She grinned at him.  
  
"Bet you never thought of it that way, did you?" Harry shook his head. Ginny was absolutely right - they needed Percy bad. He was a loose end that needed to be tied in, or else, someone could just pull on it and everything would unravel.  
  
"But how are you going to do it?" he asked. Ginny grinned fiercely, and her eyes lit with an expression suspiciously similar to Fred and George's before they pulled off a master prank.  
  
"I'm his little sister," she said innocently, "He may hate the boys, but he'd never turn me away."  
Just then Hermione found them on the landing. They had been whispering, and the situation looked fairly suspicious. Hermione's face found her prefect expression, and put it on.  
  
"What are you two doing?" she asked, her eyes narrowed. Harry was at a loss for words, but Ginny smoothly said, "I've just explained about Percy to Harry."  
  
Hermione relaxed, "Oh. Well, then, Harry, will you help us?"  
  
Harry considered, then answered slowly, "What would that entail...?"  
  
Hermione grinned, "Very diplomatic, Harry. Don't worry, it won't get you in trouble with Ron, if that's what you're worried about."  
  
It wasn't what he was worried about. He was worried about getting caught in the crossfire of wizarding family feud, but he didn't say that. He said, "Oh. Right. Okay, then. I'm in."  
  
Ginny and Hermione beamed at him, and they all went upstairs to the girls' bedroom to discuss the plan. Harry was to be the distraction. He was to make some sort of fuss so that the girl's could get away unnoticed. The girls were supposed to visit Percy at the Ministry, and extend a peace offering. If that was accepted, they would bring Percy home and have him speak to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry was supposed to once again distract the boys, so they couldn't interfere. If Percy chose to remain stubborn. Ginny and Hermione would jinx him and bring him home perforce. Because neither Hermione nor Ginny could work magic outside of Hogwarts, Hermione had planted the idea of "apologetic jellies" into the twins' minds. The twins, not suspecting a thing, had found it a grand idea and begun experimenting. Last week, the jellies had been perfected. Hermione had a bag of jellies, and if Percy proved difficult, she was sure the jellies would set him straight. It seemed to Harry that the girls had accounted for everything.  
  
"Without your help," said Hermione, "we wouldn't had to wait for the next Order meeting, and even that would have been risky. Ron would've still been around, and Mad Eye with his magical eye. Plus it would have been at night... which would have been more dangerous. But now you're in on it, we could probably even do it this afternoon, at one o'clock, if that's okay with you guys?"  
  
"Yeah!" said Ginny, nodding enthusiastically, "The sooner the better."  
  
"Uh... sure," said Harry, who was now stuck with the task of finding a good distraction in the next few hours. It was harder in the Muggle world - no gnomes or dragons, or magical misfires... Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of someone pounding up the stairs.  
  
"Harry! Gin! Hermione! Breakfast!" called Ron, passing their floor and continuing up.  
  
"Ron! We're in here!" called Ginny, and they heard Ron stop above them and pound back down. He stuck his head in the door, uncertain about entering the girls' domain.  
  
"What're you in here for?" he asked. He sounded only puzzled, and not suspicious, but Harry was worried that his expression might give them away. He glanced at the girls, who were both wearing perfectly placid expressions, as if their activities had been nothing more than casual chitchat.  
  
"We were just talking," said Hermione coolly. Harry internally applauded her acting skills, and nodded as confirmation.  
  
"Oh," said Ron, who now looked a little hurt at being left out, "Well, mum says breakfast is getting cold."  
  
"Well, let's go, then" said Harry, trying to break up the awkward atmosphere that had just settled on them, "I'm starving," and they all tromped down to hearty breakfast. 


	10. The Distraction

Harry glanced again at the clock. It was nearly one, and Hermione kept giving him meaningful looks from her chair across the living room. Harry still hadn't thought of a good distraction. He avoided at Hermione's gaze. Mr. Granger was sitting in his usual spot in the corner, reading a newspaper. It was Monday, but he only worked four days a week, and Monday was his day off. Mrs. Granger, however, was working. Harry shuttered. Who would want to be a dentist? All those awful drills and gadgets. Harry had once had an abscessed tooth, so the Dursley's had been forced to take him to a dentist. Dudley had taunted him about it before hand, and by the time he actually got into the dentist's chair, he was utterly terrified. Harry was so worked up that the assistants had to bodily restrain him, and then, as a last resort, they had put him under. One moment Harry had been screaming bloody murder, and the next, he had woken up with cotton wads stuffed in his cheeks. It's like medieval torture, he thought. Mr. Weasley would love it, I'm sure. Suddenly Harry had an idea. He looked at Hermione, who gave him a quizzical look.  
  
"Mr. Granger," he said politely. Mr. Granger folded his newspaper down to see who called, "Oh, Harry, yes, umm, what?"  
  
"Did you know that Mr. Weasley is very interested in Muggle artifacts?"  
  
"Uh, yes, as a matter of fact. He seems quite fascinated with anything electrical."  
  
Ron and Ginny looked up from their game of Wizard's chess, and looked from Mr. Granger to Harry quizzically.  
  
"Well, I know this is a little much to ask, but Hermione tells me you are a dentist. We don't really have anything like that in the magical world, and I'm sure Mr. Weasley would be very interested in all those drills and things..."  
  
Harry trailed off, afraid to be rude, but Hermione jumped in and saved him.  
  
"Daddy! You could take the Weasleys on a tour of your office!" Mr. Granger looked rather trapped, "It's your day off! No one will be there! And the Weasleys won't mess anything up!"  
  
Ron looked excited and said, "That would be sooo cool! My dad gets home for lunch at one! That's in like ten minutes!"  
"Please, Daddy..." said Hermione, "For my friends..."  
  
"Uh... well... all right... sure... why not?" He smiled and set his newspaper aside. Wizard chess forgotten, Ron went to round up the rest of his family. Mr. Weasley arrived at one, but forgot all about eating when he heard about going to the dentist's office.  
  
"Oh, Molly! The dentist! I've heard about it all from Hermione and the Grangers! But to actually see it!"  
  
So all the Weasleys, with the exception of Ginny, who complained of a headache and decided to stay home, took off with Mr. Granger to the dentist. Hermione did not go, saying she had seen the inside of the dentist's office too many times for comfort. Harry, however, could think of no good excuse to stay home, and, too proud to admit his terror of anything dental, he accompanied the Weasleys.  
  
It was a normal dentist's office, complete with fish tank and cheap magazines, but Mr. Weasley was enthralled. He stood by the fish tank for a full five minutes, and asked, "Do they help somehow? What do fish have to do with teeth?"  
  
Mr. Granger explained that they were just there for decoration, but Mr. Weasley remained skeptical.  
  
Harry thought it might have been a bad idea to invite the twins when Mr. Granger showed them the drills. Fred and George examined them very closely, and then peeled off by themselves, whispering. Ron seemed more interested in the dentist's chair. It was white, and clean, perfectly sterilized and just as terrifying as Harry remembered the last one being. Ron, of course, had no idea of the horrors that occurred in chairs of that type.  
  
"It looks so comfortable! Why does it have to be so fancy?" At that moment, Harry noticed a strong resemblance between Ron and his father.  
  
"Well," said Mr. Granger, looking over at Harry with an expression of... could it be mischief? "I could give you a demonstration..."  
  
"Yeah!" said Ron, jumping eagerly into the chair. The twins looked up from their isolated conversation, and seeing Harry's eyes wide in silent terror, rejoined the group, smiling expectantly. Meanwhile, Mr. Granger had fitted an apron around Ron's neck. He put on his rubber gloves, and asking the Weasleys to remain calm during the demonstration, he turned on the bright overhead light and aimed it at Ron's mouth.  
  
"AH!" cried Ron, "WHAT'S THAT?"  
  
"It's just a light, Ronikins!" said Fred, snickering.  
  
"Oh," said Ron, sounding embarrassed.  
  
Then Mr. Granger arranged his tools. It was clear that now he was in his element, and was no longer the shy Mr. Granger who hid in the corner behind his newspaper. He selected a tiny mirror, and before Ron could react, he skillfully shoved it into Ron's mouth and pulled aside his right cheek. Ron yelped. Then Mr. Granger selected a delicate pick, and began scraping Ron's teeth.  
  
"AH!" Ron yelled.  
  
"Don't talk," said Mr. Granger, "My hand might slip."  
  
Ron went perfectly still. Ron's parents were looking on in fear, but the twins were barely containing their mirth. Harry, empathizing with poor Ron, jabbed George in the ribs.  
  
"Ow!" he yelped.  
  
"Next I'll have Mr. Granger demonstrate on you!" whispered Harry, and both the twins lapsed into respectful silence.  
  
"My goodness, Ron," Mr. Granger was saying, "Four cavities! No more sweets for you! How often do you brush your teeth?"  
  
Ron squirmed, and gave a plaintiff mumble.  
  
"I thought so," said Mr. Granger, shaking his head. He glanced at the clock, then at Mr. Weasley, and said, "Well, I could probably do the fillings sometime next week, it would take too long now, and you probably have to get back to work."  
  
Mr. Weasley looked at the clock forlornly, it was nearly 2:30. He sighed, "Yes, I WOULD like to be there for that... well, all right... sometime next week."  
  
Mr. Granger removed his gloves and they shook on it. Meanwhile, Ron was trembling like a leaf.  
  
"You mean I have to come back?" he asked shakily. Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley turned to him with identical grins, and he shuddered. Mrs. Weasley undid the apron and helped Ron out of the chair.  
  
"It's barbaric," she said, hugging him close, "Don't worry, I won't let them."  
  
They left the dentist's office, and Mr. Weasley returned directly to work instead of going back to the Granger's house. As they walked to the bus station, Mrs. Weasley attempted to convince Mr. Granger not to fill Ron's teeth.  
  
"Honestly, I don't see how Muggle children survive it!" she said.  
  
"Well, we usually give them novocaine, then they don't feel a thing."  
  
"Novocaine?! What is that?"  
  
"Umm... It makes your mouth go numb so you can't feel anything. We just inject a shot of it about five minutes before we start," he offered reassuringly. He had doubtless assured many other concerned mothers in this way, but Mrs. Weasley was not to be mollified.  
  
"A SHOT!?"  
  
Mr. Granger looked less certain about answering this time. Molly Weasley's temper was beginning to boil, and he did not look as though he wanted to feed the flames.  
  
"A SHOT!!??" She repeated, now really angered.  
  
"Well, yes," he replied meekly. Harry looked over at Ron, whose eyes were wide with new found fear as he listened to their argument.  
  
"Is he joking?" he asked Harry in a hoarse whisper. Harry shook his head. Ron blanched further. Thankfully, by that time the bus arrived, and Mr. Granger and Mrs. Weasley broke off the debate. The bus was fairly full, so everyone sat in separate pairs. It seemed to Harry, watching the adults sit together, that they might have picked up where they left off, but from where he and Ron were sitting in the back of the bus, he could not hear anything. Ron too, was looking fearfully in their direction, swallowing thickly whenever he noticed Harry watching him.  
  
"I'm not scared," he said defiantly, when Harry caught his eye for the third time, and looked out the window for the rest of the trip. Harry shrugged and said nothing. 


End file.
